


My Mark Came First

by maraudersgirl47



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Declarations and Stuff, Episode Continuations, Fluff, Gabriel is Gabriel, M/M, Profound Bond, Season 09 Episode 18, Season 09 Episode 21, Sequel chapter now added, Spoilers up to and including the episodes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-05-09
Packaged: 2018-01-19 22:40:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1486762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraudersgirl47/pseuds/maraudersgirl47
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of 'Meta Fiction' Dean and Sam head back to the bunker. Sam is torn between constant worry for his brother and forcing him to grow up and face his problems. Well aware that most of Dean's problems currently revolve around a certain angel and his reactions Sam knows it's up to his thick brother and Castiel to sort it out. But when Cas turns up on the bunkers doorstep, he has an unexpected guest trailing behind him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is just more proof that I can never keep anything short and simple. Started as me wanting more of a reaction to how Cas responded to the Mark.. but then Gabriel needed to be there too.. and it just sort of expanded.  
> Anyway, this is an episode continuation (is that a thing?) coda of Meta Fiction so there are spoilers for everything.

Sam was kind of impressed – the entire drive back to the bunker, a food stop and all, and his brother had managed to stay adamantly silent the entire way. Dean had sat behind the wheel, turned over the ignition and apparently settled on ignoring Sam’s existence.

Sam was worried – he supposed worried was just a part of his personality by now – but with Cas’ words still ringing in his mind, and what seemed to be the permanently sullen face Dean had mastered… Yeah, worried covered this as well.

Dean was out of the car and stomping his way around the bunker’s garage before he barely had the Impala stationary. Sam hoisted himself out much slower, limbs stiff, as they always were after any extended period in the low car. His thoughts about merely leaving Dean alone died quickly as the sight of his brother hunched over and rummaging in one of the many tool boxes they’d managed to fill not only worried him, but spiked curiosity within him as well.

“Dean?” He finally ventured cautiously, Sam’s own voice vague from their extended silence. Dean didn’t show any sign of acknowledgement – except his rummaging might have become a little louder. Sam opted to think that was merely a coincidence and tried again. “Dean, what -” Sam fell silent as his older brother stood hastily, turning back towards the car, a white spray paint can clutched tightly in his hand.

Sam watched as Dean yanked open the trunk with force, uncapping the can before raising it to aim near the underside of the open trunk. Dean managed the first few important lines of the usual devil’s trap symbol before Sam couldn’t hold his tongue any longer, “Is there even a point to doing it again?”

“Of course there’s a point,” Dean snapped. Sam was relieved just to hear him speak, even if the words were harsh. “There are plenty of other miserable things this will keep out. All the demons, all the other angels – by the time I’m done. It doesn’t matter if one stupid son of a bitch worked their way around it. It doesn’t matter if Metatron -” his voice faltered and died off, hand beginning to shake as he moved onto the next symbol. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Of course it matters,” Sam responded quickly, trying to keep his own voice level as he felt his own temper beginning to rise at Dean’s attitude towards the entire situation. They were both on the same page here (for once) and now was the time Dean decided he wanted to be silently broody about everything? Of course.

“Metatron isn’t the current problem,” Dean had begun speaking again, his eyes resolutely locked onto the underside of the trunk. “We’re meant to be focusing on Abaddon! Abaddon is _my_ job, _I’m_ meant to get rid of her. That’s what the stupid mark is for.” Dean moved further along with his can, adding the needed details here and there, “It’s the whole point of the damn thing.”

“We can’t just ignore everything else that’s happening till you feel like dealing with it. Cas is doing great on his own with this, sure, kind of, excluding the part where he kind of got kidnapped today -” Sam fell silent again at the loud clunk of the paint can hitting the hard concrete, Dean’s hands both clutched tightly over the rim of the trunk as if for support.

“Yeah, you know Sammy, minor details,” Dean muttered harshly as he bent, fingers searching under the back of the car for his paint.

Sam walked towards him slowly, bending to pick up the fallen can which lay behind a wheel just out of his brother’s reach. Dean snatched it out of his hand quickly and straightened back up. Sam stood at a slower rate, watching his brother’s face closely, “You worried about him?” Sam tried to ask lightly.

Dean huffed a breath, leaning back to where he was nearly finished with the angel banishing sigil, “That’s not the point Sam.”

“But it’s some of the point.” Dean remained silent, working with a laser focus that Sam recognized as simply an attempt to get rid of him. “I get that Cas feels responsible for everything that’s happened with Metatron,” Sam began slowly, cautiously. “And that he thinks it’s his job to try and fix it. I get that. I even understand why he was originally sent off to do that task alone. Why you -” Sam stopped as Dean froze, quickly changing tactics, “Why he couldn’t be around. But that was then, things have changed. Again. Wouldn’t it be easier if we all stuck together now?” Sam rubbed out a smudge of wet paint that had strayed from Dean’s precise lines, “We need Cas with some of this, Cas needs us from time to time. Wouldn’t it be easier?”

Dean finally picked up the lid for the can, recapping it with a snap and tossing it into the trunk. He stepped back, reaching up and bringing down the newly painted lid with a thump.

“Disgust,” Dean said heavily.

Sam’s eyebrows drew together at the odd word, “What?”

“That’s how he looked at me. Complete disgust. That’s how he’ll always look at me. Disgust and anger and disappointment.” Dean clasped his hands on the rear edge of the car and Sam noticed it was to try and stop the shaking that had returned.

Sam’s mind quickly caught up with what his brother was fixating on. Cas. Cas in that parking lot and the harsh way he yanked Dean’s shirt up, eyes landing heavily on the stark mark branded into Dean’s arm. Cas’ outrage.

Sam watched as Dean relinquished his hold on the car to clamp a palm tightly over where he knew the mark burned in Dean’s arm. “I’m sure he was just shocked,” Sam tried reasonably, truly believing that most of the angel’s reaction had come from a place of surprise.

When Dean turned to look at him properly Sam was surprised that his brother’s eyes were watery. “I can’t fix this Sammy.”

Sam didn’t try to stop him, as Dean trudged heavily out of the room, his hand never relinquishing his grasp on his opposite forearm.

-/-

It had been roughly an hour in the presence of some fellow brethren and Cas was already thinking he could have gone about this a better way. Maybe having a plan to begin with would have been a good place to start. Instead he had a room full of strangely content angels who seemed more than happy to just hang around and wait for a command. It was kind of eerie, and Cas soon found the need to excuse himself from the place.

He walked without purpose. Trying to think of tactics, strategy, while trying to ignore the very real threat that Metatron held and the way in which he’d taken Cas so easily. How delusional he was. How ridiculous his ideals and plans were – and yet he was still winning this war.

Cas found his phone slipping between his pocket and his hand almost unconsciously as he walked. He even had the device unlocked once or twice, Dean’s number hovering under his fingertips.  
Then the majority of his thoughts would switch to Dean, when did they not? He had to talk to Dean. Had to see him for a longer period of time. _He_ had to ensure that Dean was okay.

He’d doubled back in his steps somewhere along his path, slowly meandering his way back to his now extremely crowded motel room. It wasn’t until he was semi close, thoughts beginning to un-swirl enough to allow other perceptions back in, such as sight, that he registered there was clearly a shape sitting on top of his car.

He came to a hesitant stop beside the vehicle, squinted gaze resting upon the casually sprawled figure above him. “What is this?”

Gabriel laughed softly from his perch, “Thought you might be insulted baby bro, if I didn’t come and say hello properly.”

Cas remained still, gaze flicking over the supposed arch angel, taking in the exact same outfit he’d been wearing only the day before. “And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“You’d be a fool to believe anything I say at this point Cassie.”

“You’re not exactly helping your cause,” Cas growled out, eyes scrutinizing closely.

Gabriel dropped down gracefully from the car, turning his palms up in an innocent gesture as he stood stoically in front of Cas. “I’m me – no fairy-tale strings attached this time, no one trying to be a playwright. Purely and simply me.”

Cas moved quickly, reaching for his angel blade and slicing out at the body in front of him. The blade connected heavily against the arm Gabriel had thrown up in defence, slicing through jacket, shirt and the flesh beneath.

“OW!” Gabriel exclaimed loudly, yanking his arm into his chest protectively, attempting to wipe away the welts of blood quickly rushing to the surface. “What the hell was that for?”

“The list is long,” Cas grumbled out. He glanced around, trying to spot anything that could mean he was once again trapped in a delusion. Nothing stood out. He didn’t know whether that was comforting or completely disconcerting.

Gabriel recaptured his attention when he continued to speak, “Metatron was a fool trying to use me in one of his little games.” Cas raised his eyes questioningly, remaining on guard, “He got my attention. Personally. Now, I want back in.”

-/-

Sam was sick and tired of looking at the same pages over and over again expecting to see different results. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking for any more – what should he focus on? Metatron, Abaddon, other angels? Should he abandon all of that and research the Mark of Cain, try and find some way to rid his brother of the burden laden thing?

As far as Sam knew Dean hadn’t remerged from his room since they’d been back. And unless Dean had some magical store of food in there that he’d neglected to tell Sam about it was certainly hedging towards more than strange.

Resigned to the fact that he’d most likely be ignored, but determined to try anyway, he made Dean a sandwich. Trudging down the long corridors soon after he was outside Dean’s bedroom door, plate in hand. Sam knocked pointedly against the solid wood in his face, “Brought you some food.”

He waited a few beats of silence before trying again, “Come on Dean, you need to eat something.” Sam rolled his eyes at the desolate silence before trying the handle, he was surprised to find the door unlocked, swinging open easily at his touch.

He took stock of the room before entering. The space was impeccably tidy, even for Dean, as if he’d gone around it and straightened everything until not an inch was out of line. Even Dean’s posture appeared as if he didn’t wish to disrupt his surroundings. He was on top of his sheets, stoically straight, one ankle hooked over the other and arms resting on his chest. His eyes were trained blankly on the ceiling.

Sam wasn’t sure he’d been noticed until his brother spoke, “Go away Sammy.”

Figuring it might be childish to give a straight out ‘no’, Sam compromised a little, “Not until you eat something.”

“‘M not hungry.”

“I don’t care.”

Dean turned to glare at him and Sam stubbornly held his gaze.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m not asking you to talk, I’m telling you to eat.”

“Don’t want to do that either,” Dean grumbled quite petulantly.

Sam would have thrown his hands up in exasperation if he weren’t still holding a plate of food. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Am not.”

“Fine. Call Cas then.”

“‘M not calling Cas. Never said anything about Cas.”

Sam ignored the last part and pressed forward, “Why not? Afraid he’ll express his _disappointment_ in you. Grow up Dean.”

Dean swung his legs around violently, plodding them on the ground and sitting facing his brother, “What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means quit hiding from everything, call Cas, and talk it through with him. If you’re fool enough to think that the stupid mark on your arm changes Cas’ perception of you -”

“But it does Sam, of course it does! Not that it matters what he thinks about it.”

Sam rubbed a hand over his eyes, praying for patience, “You’re being a dense idiot – more so than usual.” Sam strode forward, placing the plate on the table near Dean’s bed with more force than necessary. “Just eat the damn sandwich.”

Turning on his heel he strode out. Resolve quite firm – he’d call Cas himself.

-/-

Cas wasn’t entirely positive how he once again found himself behind the wheel of his car, an exuberant arch angel next to him. Although, said arch angel seemed much more exuberant than he had before, a candy bar now in one hand, the other fiddling with the radio insistently, and a constant prattle of life on the run streaming from his mouth.

They’d left the other angels to go about business or whatever it was they had been doing before flocking to Cas’ call. Cas leaving instructions that he’d contact them when needed. Gabriel had smiled benignly from behind him, receiving a mixture of confused glances but nothing more.

Cas was somewhat relieved when his phone rang, if just to stop Gabriel talking for two minutes. Seeing Sam’s name on the screen Cas didn’t think before answering the call and holding the phone up to his ear, “Sam,” he greeted calmly.

He realized his mistake a second later, seeing Gabriel’s gaze light up with delight in his peripheral and having to take extreme measures of keeping the phone out of Gabriel’s instantly incessant reach as the arch angel practically dived across the seat to try and grab it.

Cas could hear Sam’s concern floating down the line, “You ok Cas? You sound like you’re struggling.”

“I’m fine Sam, just give me a second,” Cas stated aggravated, still attempting to keep Gabriel away while keeping the car on the road.

“Give me the phone Cassie!” Gabriel whispered excitedly.

“No I will not give you the phone,” Cas whispered back, doing his best to cover the small speaker and prevent Sam from hearing.

“Come on! Let me have some fun.”

“No!”

Cas managed to elbow Gabriel in the ribs hard enough to have him recoiling a moment. He straightened the phone against his ear, “Sam?”

“You sure you’re ok Cas?”

“Perfect,” He responded while glaring harshly across at Gabriel who looked like he was plotting his next break for the device. “Did you need something Sam?” Cas asked quickly, before the integrity of the phone call was once again compromised.

“Was wondering if there was any chance you could swing by the bunker actually.”

“Is everything all right?”

“Yeah, well, you know, things could be better. But yeah. Any chance -”

“Yes. Of course. I actually had something to discuss with the two of you,” His gaze rested on Gabriel’s smirking face.

“Yeah, well, we’ll be here.” Cas could distinctly hear the tone of worry underlying Sam’s attempt at lightness.

“I will see you soon Sam.” And pointedly ignoring Gabriel’s outstretched hand Cas ended the call and tucked the phone safely back inside his pocket.

“You’re rude.”

Cas shot Gabriel another glare, “Be thankful I’m taking you along.”

Gabriel must have noticed the clouded look that overtook Cas’ features at the reoccurring thought that Gabriel was actually a threat. He laughed lightly, “No need to fret Cassie. My intentions with the Winchester’s are always honourable.”

-/-

Dean was pointlessly flicking through books at one of the main tables, his mind nowhere near on the words he was trying to read, and was beginning to wonder if going for a drive would be a good distraction right now, when there was a loud persistent knock at the metal entrance door.

Dean went still, glancing around – he could have sworn Sam hadn’t left the building, and even if he had he would have taken the key. The knock sounded again.

Dean cautiously got to his feet, picking up his gun along the way and climbed the short trip of stairs to face the door. He braced his gun in his hand before swinging the heavy metal open, barrel ready and raised for whoever was on the other side.

Dean breathed a heavy sigh of relief when the open door brought Cas’ form into his sight.  
Cas raised his eyes pointedly, gaze focused on the gun still pointed directly at him, “Hello Dean.”

“Cas, man, you scared the shit out of me.”

“Hence the armed weapon.”

Dean lowered the gun quickly away from Cas and tucked it into the back of his jeans. “Sorry, man,” Dean said gruffly, stepping to the side so Cas could step over the threshold, “What are you doing here?”

Cas shot him a questioning look, “Sam called. He didn’t mention -”

Cas could visibly see Dean’s jaw clench and unclench as he ground out, “No he didn’t.”

Sam came into the room below them, eyes searching for his brother and turning somewhat hesitant as they landed on two figures instead of one. “Hey Cas,” he greeted cheerfully, ignoring the glare Dean had directed at him. “You got here quick.”

“Yeah, a little heads up would have been nice.”

Sam ignored his brother, “Figured Cas could crash here for a while,” Sam stated openly, choosing to ignore the confused look Cas was giving him and the outraged one on Dean’s face. “I need his help with some stuff, it’s easier.” Sam paused at the silence from the other two, “Besides, Cas said he needed to talk to us.”

That seemed to bring Cas out of his momentary surprise, and both brothers noticed the obvious nervous air that overtook him. “Uh, yes, that. It’s in the car. What I needed to – you need – just come on,” Cas turned and walked back out the door. Dean shrugged down to Sam before following and Sam jogged up the stairs to catch up.

The three of them headed towards Cas’ car, which he’d parked in the same place Dean used to until they’d discovered the garage underneath them.

“Front seat,” Cas stated heavily.

Dean and Sam shot each other questioning looks before following the direction. Dean was in half a mind to reach around and pull his gun back out. Sam reached the side door first, grasping at the handle and pulling open the door as cautiously as if he was terrified something was going to spring out at him. Both brothers peered into the front seat curiously and shot another look at each other when they saw nothing but empty upholstery.

“Uh, Cas?” Dean asked carefully, looking over his shoulder at the patiently waiting angel, “What exactly are we meant to be looking for?”

Cas’ face fell as he took the few short strides to stand next to the two boys, glancing past them into the empty car, “Dammit,” he muttered sullenly. Earning raised eyebrows from both Winchester’s.

“You didn’t honestly expect me to wait in the car did you?”

The unaccounted for voice trailing from behind them had all three of them whipping around at lightning speed. Dean had his gun out, stance defensively shielding Cas who was right beside him. Sam had ceased searching for a weapon relatively quickly, mouth falling open in shock.

Gabriel stood before them, arms outstretched as he gave a mock bow, “Hello boys. Did you miss me?”

“Gabriel?” Sam chocked out.

“I told you to wait in the car,” Cas stated, resting his hand against Dean’s arm and forcing him to lower his gun.

Gabriel scoffed, “As if I was going to wait in the car.”

“Gabriel?” Sam repeated again. Glancing across to his frozen brother and their angel before back to the one before them. “How – what – Gabriel?”

“Yes Sam, I think we’ve established that it’s Gabriel. Not quite sure when we established why I shouldn’t shoot him in the head,” Dean tried to raise his gun back up but Cas’ grip wouldn’t relinquish.

“Whoa! Dean-o, bad day?”

“Shut up, and leave.”

“And here I am, trying to help.” Gabriel continued, seeming utterly unfazed at the threat lying in Dean’s tone.

“Hear him out,” Cas said reasonably, his hand still tightly around Dean’s arm.

“How long have you known about this?” Dean asked to Cas, his eyes refusing to move from the arch angel across from them.

“Not long,” Cas responded quickly. “And I didn’t think it was anything to begin with. It was a very, _very,_ strange day. But now – look, if he’s willing to be our ally, then we need him.”

“What’s he talking about?” Sam asked over, as Cas continued to try and placate Dean.

“You and me Sammy boy, we have a common enemy.”

-/-

“Do you boys have any food in this place?”

Gabriel had spent the last hour and a half trying to convince both Winchester brothers, and Cas, that he was on their side, all for their cause, blah, blah, blah. Cas seemed to want to trust him, Sam was coming round and Dean appeared to be moments away from stomping out of the room.

“Angels don’t eat,” Dean snapped.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t indulge in some of the finer things in life,” Gabriel said calmly. He had his feet hoisted up onto one of the tables, his chair swinging back at an alarming angle, which had the other occupants in the room thinking he was going to topple over at any moment.

“So conjure yourself up a candy bar.”

“It’s not the same,” Gabriel all but whined.

Dean shook his head as his gaze landed on his brother. Sam shrugged hesitantly, “I’ll make us all something.” He pushed himself up from the table, “Dean,” he said pointedly as he strode past him. Dean got the message and followed him down to the kitchen, leaving the two angels alone.

“What do you think?” Sam asked quietly, hoping they were far enough away to not still be in ear shot.

“I don’t trust him. I never did. And now to think that he’s been hiding all this time, when he could have been doing _something_.”

“Can you really blame him though?” Sam tried fairly, pulling out a couple of saucepans and moving them to the stove, “I mean, if you could hide away from it all, without feeling any remorse for it, wouldn’t you?”

“How can you not feel remorse for something like that?”

“He’s an angel Dean.”

Dean remained silent for a few moments as Sam fiddled with ingredients. “I don’t trust him,” he stated finally, firmly.

“Maybe you don’t need to.”

When nothing but silence met his response Sam turned around to find an empty kitchen. Shaking his head at his stubborn brother he went back to what he was doing.

Ten minutes later, food sizzling away, Cas rounded the corner eyes searching as they landed on Sam.

“Food’ll be up in a minute,” Sam said easily, “How’s the guest?”

“Can’t seem to stop him from poking around,” Cas stated, “Sorry,” he tagged on quickly.

Sam shook his head, “Don’t be. Probably the best place for him for now. For all of us.”

Cas nodded his agreement. “Where’s Dean?”

Sam shrugged, “Probably in his room. You need to talk to him Cas.”

Cas’ face pinched with confusion, “Why?”

Sam smiled softly as he turned to flick the heat off, “He thinks you’re angry with him.”

“Angry?” Cas asked perplexed, “Why would I be angry with him?”

“The mark,” Sam continued carefully, glancing back to gauge Cas’ reaction, “He thinks you’ll hate him now or something as equally ridiculous.”

“I am concerned about him,” Cas stated harshly, “I am worried that -”

“I know,” Sam cut him off, pilling up a couple of plates and heading back towards the main room, “Maybe you should go tell him that.”

Sam waited patiently for Cas to nod before trudging to go and feed their highly unexpected house guest.

-/-

Dean groaned at the sound of a light knock on his door, “Go away Sammy.”

He kept his eyes pointedly closed as he heard the door open, he really needed to remember to lock the damn thing. He only moved in surprise at the sound of a voice he wasn’t expecting, “It’s me.”

Dean turned his head towards Cas and blinked his eyes open, “Hey Cas,” he said softly, “Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on Gabriel?”

“He is with Sam,” Cas closed the door carefully behind him, “Sam can take care of himself,” He added as he saw Dean about to protest.

Dean nodded slowly. Cas smiled slightly as he took in his surroundings, walking forward gradually and carefully seating himself on the side of the bed Dean was on. Dean shifted his legs across to give him more room.

“I thought we could talk,” Cas said hesitantly.

Dean laughed softly, “You mean, Sam told you to come and talk to me.”

Cas smiled sheepishly, “Well, yes. But that doesn’t mean I do not wish to speak with you Dean.”

Dean sighed as he leant his head further back into his pillow, eyes trailing over Cas’ form and resting softly on Cas’ eyes as Cas gazed down at him questioningly. “I’ve missed you.”

Dean seemed almost as shocked by his own words as Cas was to hear them. After a few beats of processing silence Cas’ grin grew a little wider, “I always miss you, Dean, when I am not by your side.”

Dean rolled his eyes, earning him a nudge to the leg. “You started it,” Cas said defensively.

The two of them fell into silence, Dean’s gaze had trailed off to focus on random points around the room while Cas kept his eyes trained on Dean.

“Can I see it?” Cas asked somewhat casually for the weight behind his eyes.

“You already did, Cas,” Dean replied shortly.

“Show me again,” Cas pressed.

“Why on earth,” Dean started, sounding somewhere between desperate and his own manner of disgusted, “Would you want to?”

“Because I’m going to teach you something, and I need you to trust me in order to do so.”

Dean sighed heavily, “You know I trust you Cas. I don’t see how -”

“Please Dean,” Cas waited until Dean stopped trying to avoid eye contact, “Trust me. Let me see.”

Dean pulled himself into a sitting position irritably, folding his legs close to his body and harshly yanking at the hem of his shirt sleeve until he could drag it up above his elbow. He refused to look down at his forearm even knowing that’s exactly where Cas’ gaze was locked. Refused to acknowledge whatever judgement Cas was going to pass about this.

He flinched when he felt the press of cool fingers at the indent of his elbow, his eyes betraying him quite easily and flicking across to watch as Cas trailed the tips of his fingers further down, over the ridged rise of his marked skin.

Dean felt a tremble of a shiver run through him, could have sworn the mark on his arm grew a shade darker, but with a second glance he was sure it was simply his imagination.  
Cas continued to trail his fingertips with the lightest touch over the mark, it wasn’t until Dean glanced up that he realized Cas was keenly watching his face and not his blatantly exposed forearm.

Dean moved to still Cas’ fingers, holding them firmly in his grasp against his skin before lifting them away, “Please Cas,” He was almost ashamed at how weak his voice had dropped, “Please don’t.”

Cas turned his palm so he was able to return the light pressure against Dean’s digits, “What is it that you are so afraid I will see?”

Cas moved his fingers slightly more, just enough so both their hands interlocked precisely. Dean couldn’t find it anywhere within himself to pull his hand away. Trying his best to ignore the bile steadily rising in his throat, “I know what it means. I understood when I took it that there was no turning back. That it’s infected everything -”

“Nothing can taint you Dean Winchester,” Cas tightened his grip as he sensed Dean about to pull back. “Do you forget?” Cas sighed deeply, meeting Dean’s searching eyes with patience, “Have you forgotten that there are other marks that lay deep within your body? Your essence?”

“Cas, please, _don’t_ ,” Dean ignored the shake that had developed in his usually steady tone, looking down sullenly at the bed beneath his weight, “ _Don’t_ try and make this ok.”

“I’m going to. You need to hear these things, let me remind you,” Cas reached forward gently with his spare hand, touching slightly to the bottom of Dean’s chin and drawing his face back up, “Thing’s you have ignored over the years, for your own reasons. I didn’t always understand them and you have no need to explain them to me. But please, let me help you with this.”

Dean huffed a humourless laugh, “What don’t you get about this Cas? You can’t help me.” He yanked his hand out of Cas’ grasp harshly, tugging his sleeve back down over the constant reminder of all his latest mistakes. “It’s a necessary means to an end.”

When Dean dared to look back up he was surprised at the stony outline of Cas’ features. “What are you afraid that mark will show me?” Cas waited as if he expected a literal reply, Dean remained stubbornly silent until Cas continued, his tone somewhat gentler, “It shows me nothing more than your bravery and courage and your sense of what is right. Things I have known about you for many years.”

“It’s nothing but darkness, Cas,” Dean almost pleaded, wanting him to stop, knowing deep down there was nothing that Cas could come up with that could possibly help, possibly make things better. “It is darkness, and blood, and torture and I feel it seeping into me every passing moment.”

“It is but a mark.” Cas’ patient voice was starting to grate at Dean’s nerves, “And it is not the only one you carry.” Dean almost shrunk away as Cas reached carefully forward, laying his palm heavily against Dean’s chest before turning his blue gaze up to firmly meet Dean’s eyes, “Have you truly forgotten, that my mark came first?”

Dean clasped his fingers desperately around Cas’ wrist, ignoring the instinct that wanted to toss him away and pressed Cas’ outstretched fingers harder against the fabric of his shirt. Dean could feel the tell-tale sting begin behind his eyes, “How could you possibly – after _everything_ – still be ok with having a claim, or whatever the hell it is you call it, on _me._ ”

Dean was surprised when Cas laughed softly, searching his eyes for some understanding. “Dean Winchester, you are _mine_ and you will always be. Through everything we have seen and everything we are yet to face.” Cas clenched his fingers in Dean’s shirt tightly before drawing back just enough to reclasp at his hand. “My mark against your soul mean’s everything, it rests closer to your heart than anything else ever can, nothing can undo it. Not the brand on your forearm, or the fact that the grace within me has changed. It is stronger than that.”

“I am poison Cas. I break everything and everyone around me. The further away from me you are -”

“The safer I will be?” Cas smiled gently, “How greatly you misunderstand your own power. You may be afraid of hurting me. I think I’ve proved quite effectively that my distant vicinity to you will in no way keep me out of trouble. If you look close enough I’m relatively sure the lack of you was somewhat of a problem.”

Dean had to fight to keep his wanting grin hidden at the openly easy look on Cas’ face. The utter trust as he continued to speak his mind, “You’ve told me you’ve needed me before. I need you more than I can encompass into words. It pains me to not be by your side Dean. And none of that is new information and none of it will ever be changed by what lies on your forearm.”

The two of them remained silent for a few moments, Dean unconsciously fiddling with Cas’ fingers between his own, unlinking them only to relink them again, tighter than before.

“In the parking lot -” Dean cut off, glancing back across at Cas’ face, seeing if he needed to elaborate further.

Cas sighed deeply, “I will admit feeling the change in your presence shocked me. And I was angry,” Cas tightened his grip almost as if afraid Dean would try and reclaim his hand, “I was angry that you hadn’t seen fit to tell me.” Dean nodded softly. “I will also admit I was somewhat -” Cas paused nervously, biting softly at his lower lip, a habit he’d picked up only after he’d spent his time as a human that gave away his uncertainty.

“You were what?” Dean asked curiously.

“It is not of import.”

“You were what?” Dean pressed again, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, the lightness in Cas’ eyes that suggested they were speaking of something as simple as the weather instead of something so thoroughly dark.

“I was jealous,” Cas said softly.

“Jealous!” Dean exclaimed louder than he intended.

“Dean,” Cas scolded at the volume of his tone, and the giggles Dean had allowed to escape afterwards.

“Sorry,” Dean tacked on quickly, clearly attempting to keep his face straight. He didn’t last long, “ _Jealous?”_

“Marks like that are a very symbolic thing,” Cas started defensively. “You are mine and seeing something like that which belongs to someone else -” Cas stopped himself as he watched Dean shaking his head and continue to smile like a loon. “You’re laughing at me.”

“Not at _you_ Cas,” Dean tugged on his hand trying to get that ever familiar blue gaze to look back at him, “I’m – I just – I’m happy that it makes you jealous.”

Cas screwed his face up in confusion, “That doesn’t make -”

“Any sense, yes I know. It just – it’s kind of the closest thing I get to you feeling, like, mine too. You know?”

Cas raised his eyes back to Dean’s, the puzzled expression still marring his features, he glanced down at their linked hands once more before leaning in swiftly and lightly pressing his closed lips against Dean’s.

The press barely lasted a second, and yet Dean’s eyes managed to flutter shut in the short time. Cas pulled himself back just as swiftly, keeping himself seated as the two of them had been for however long they’d already been locked away in Dean’s room.

Dean blinked his eyes back open, half expecting Cas to have vanished, he’d never been so glad than in that moment that Cas didn’t have wings to simply flutter off. “What was that for?” Dean asked softly, when he thought his voice would hold long enough to get the words out.

Cas shrugged, “I am yours.”

Dean looked away, studying the room around them with such an intensity it was as if he’d never seen it before. “That doesn’t change -, I’m still -, I -”

“I don’t care what you think,” Cas said simply and Dean raised his eyebrows somewhat offended by the statement, “I wish to stay by your side.”

“Even with -” Dean glanced pointedly where the mark was once again hidden beneath his shirt. “It’s doing things to me, Cas. Changing me.”

“You need to learn to control it, not let it control you. That’s all. You can do that better if you allow people to help you.”

Dean sighed, “And what if I can’t? What if I give in? What if I become some mindless killing machine in Hell? It’s happened before.”

Cas smiled softly, “The first time I ever saw you was in the depths of Hell. I seem to remember you being quite spectacular.” Dean looked across to Cas sharply. “I don’t think you understand exactly what I’m choosing, Dean.”

“You can’t -”

“Yes I can.”

Cas said it with such conviction that Dean couldn’t find an inch of room left for argument. He watched Cas closely, studied every angle of his face, searching for just a hint of uncertainty. It was impossible to find any.

“Are you gonna find it weird if I kiss you again?” Dean asked as casually as he could, half-heartedly shrugging a shoulder.

“Dean Winchester, I am going to be extremely disappointed if you don’t.”

Dean leaned across quickly, catching Cas’ lips with his own much in the same way as Cas had originally. Soft and chaste. The moment he felt Cas’ hand clutch at the back of his head, trying to drag him closer, he lost all patience for such pretences.

It became much more very quickly – maybe it was years of pent up frustration – maybe it was simply carnal need – it didn’t matter where the drive originated from, what mattered was it was there, and it was strong.

Cas had his lips clamped around Dean’s with ease as he allowed Dean’s tongue teasing in and out of his mouth. He’d lick at Dean’s almost closed lips, only to graze them with his teeth shortly afterwards. Almost as if he had plans to sink them right through Dean’s skin – Dean couldn’t imagine he’d be complaining if it happened.

Dean spent time running his palm around Cas’ jaw, through the tendrils of dark hair that curled around the back of his neck and beside his ear only to settle with fisting his curled fingers into the collar of Cas’ coat. Cas tugged at the back of Dean’s hair, dragging him back as if reminding the hunter that he was the one who needed to remember to breathe in this situation.

They didn’t stray apart for long.

Cas leaned forward with an air of determination as he pressed closed mouth kisses down the line of Dean’s jaw and continued them down the tendons in his neck. They grew sloppier, as if Cas couldn’t concentrate on keeping them precise, merely that he needed to keep following his current path.

Dean barely managed to make his mind concentrate long enough to focus on tugging Cas’ coat from his shoulders. Yanking it down Cas’ arms with more force than was probably appropriate he tossed it across the room. He couldn’t manage any sympathy for the crumpled way in which it fell – he’d never been as fond of it as the old one.

Dean was impressed that he seemed to be able to take Cas by surprise in any manner, wrapping his arms around Cas’ waist he easily dragged Cas along the mattress, closer to his side, pulling the firm line of his body against his own. He had Cas’ shirt untucked and his hand snaking underneath the fabric to reach bare skin, his fingertips seeming to blaze with heat as they stroked up Cas’ back.

Cas seemed content to remain fixated between the long expanse of skin that was Dean’s neck and his now completely pliant mouth. The angel seemed determined to drag Dean’s shirt as low as it would physically go below his collarbones without actually removing it. When Cas finally grew impatient enough with the amount of fabric baring his way, the expression was clear on his face and Dean couldn’t help but laugh at the determined pinch along his brow.

Dean helped Cas rid him of his shirt, meeting the angel’s feverish lips hurriedly once the hindering material was out of their way. Cas ran his hands with apparent ease up the planes of his chest, trailing what Dean knew to be somewhat unpractised hands expertly around his shoulders and strongly down his biceps.

They paused, each facing the other and breathing in each other’s air, when Cas slowed his movements, trailing his hand carefully down Dean’s forearm and bracing his palm firmly around the mark currently plaguing Dean’s world.

“Dean,” Cas murmured gently, eyes searching Dean’s as he tightened his fingers around Dean’s arm. “Mine?”

Dean was concerned that it sounded like a question, especially when it never had before. He allowed the smile that wanted to come to tug at the corners of his mouth, leaning forward till his lips were almost once again connected where they wanted to be. “Yours,” He stated confidently.

Cas grinned as Dean once again manhandled him across the space between them, lifting him slightly till he was seated over Dean, his legs coming to rest beside his waist and the obvious bulge at Dean’s groin pressed against his ass.

Dean moved experimentally, only barely biting back a moan when he felt Cas rock down against his evidently hard cock. He muffled the second attempt at the sound by dragging Cas’ face down back within his reach.

It was utterly ridiculous if they took the time to think about it. They were both practically still fully clothed – minus a coat and a shirt – but their skin was feverish, their breathing rate accelerating with every gasped breath, hands greedy and reaching for any possible part they could grab, hips rocking with some defined rhythm.

It was only seconds before it happened that Dean realized he was going to come in his pants like he was an over horny teenager once more. Cas’ hand barely ghosting over him and he was done for. Nothing within his being could make him feel bad about it, especially not with Cas’ tongue still tangled tightly with his own and the low groan and extra spurt of heat that signified Cas following him into completion.

Cas seemed as surprised as Dean when he lost the ability to keep himself seated upright, leaning heavily against Dean’s chest and pressing his lips to Dean’s no doubt marked neck as Dean wrapped his arms around him tightly.

They took their time catching their breath, Dean quite happy to breath in the oddly fresh scent of Cas’ hair as the angel kept his face tucked into Dean’s shoulder.

Dean dragged Cas down to lie properly on the bed when he felt Cas’ hesitance on whether it would be appropriate. He rolled them over, smiling down at Cas gleefully before softly melting their lips together seamlessly. When he finally pulled back he was glad to see Cas’ eyes and smile were just as bright as his own.

“Hey,” Dean said softly, brushing back Cas’ hair that had stuck to his forehead.

“Hello Dean,” Cas responded easily, leaning up almost needily to add one more kiss to Dean’s swollen mouth.

“That happened,” Dean didn’t want to seem hesitant but he could already feel the trickle of worry begin to seep in that somehow this moment was going to shatter and everything would once again come crashing down.

Cas huffed out a small laugh, reaching for Dean and cupping a hand around the back of his neck firmly, “Finally,” he said with relief.

That one word had Dean soaring again, one word and the bright shine behind his angel’s eyes and for once everything seemed like it would be ok. Even knowing he might regret it didn’t faze him, he seized onto the feeling and kept it close, no intentions of letting it go anytime soon.

Dean collapsed next to Cas when his arms refused to hold him up any longer, quickly moving to shuck off his now sticky jeans and boxers. Cas watched him with nothing but fondness in his eyes, moving pliantly as Dean insisted on stripping him as well. Dean tugged a blanket over them once he was satisfied, turning his back into Cas’ chest and breathing so contently his eyes slipping closed, as Cas’ arms came around to embrace him firmly.

He felt Cas press his lips behind his ear and leaned into the touch with ease. When he felt Cas gradually reach for his arm, taking the marked flesh in his palm once more and squeezing tightly it was the first instance in which there wasn’t the smallest part of him that wanted to hide it away.

He knew he could trust Cas with this, and if the angel said control was the answer, then control he was going to find.

“Hey Cas?”

“Dean,” Cas kissed near the back of his neck again, he seemed somewhat incapable of now keeping his lips off any part of Dean he could reach.

“Thanks.”

“I thought it was uncustomary to thank your partner after sexual gratification?”

Dean snorted, lightly elbowing back into Cas’ ribs, “One, smartass, don’t ever refer to what we do as ‘sexual gratification’ again. And two, you know what I meant.”

Dean could feel the smirk when lips met the back of his head again, “You are welcome, Dean.” There was another light kiss, “I think you can repay me with more sexual gra -”

Dean cut the angel off laughing, twisting in his arms so he could shut him up sufficiently with his tongue. They remained locked together for some time, before Dean’s body started to remind him he wasn’t as young as he once was and attempted to drag him back into a doze. At least he could safely say he was more comfortable in Cas’ arms than he’d been in a very long time.

Dean still didn’t feel like moving from Cas’ warm hold even when he heard the tell-tale signs of footsteps drawing nearer to the door. He figured it was probably Sam – he and Cas had kind of been away for the majority of the afternoon.

The small rustle in Cas’ movements indicated that he noticed the sounds as well. Glancing over his shoulder Dean offered Cas a warm smile before leaning forward and pressing their lips together softly.

He saw Cas’ face pinch into confusion when they both heard the sounds of a scuffle outside. The noises became more apparent when Gabriel’s trademark voice trailed underneath the gap of the doorway.

“I’m just gonna wake ‘em up Sammy.”

“Wake them up? What the hell are you expecting to find Gabriel? Now come away from there.”

There was another strand of muffled voices that were too soft for Dean to discern, he almost jumped when Gabriel’s tone grew suddenly much louder.

“What do you mean they don’t have sex?! What the hell have the two idiots been doing for the last five years?!”

Dean turned back to Cas, biting into the front of his shoulder softly to muffle the bouts of laughter shuddering through his body, wanting to break free.

He hated to admit it – But Gabriel had a point.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this sequel turned out nothing to what I originally thought it would.  
> Another episode continuation following the events of The King of the Damned, so once again spoilers for everything.  
> Hope you like!

It was a fancy suite. The entire hotel was nice. Classy. The polished wood on every surface possible, leather couches, extravagant fixtures – it was classier than Dean would have expected from Abaddon – or maybe the hotel had originally been Crowley’s idea. Yes, that made more sense.

Crowley – who currently sat crumpled beside him, powerless and bleeding. Squinted eyes shifting between Abaddon and Dean with every exaggerated movement.

Abaddon herself, slowly making her way across the room, a snarky casualness in her stance as the fiery red head drew ever closer.

Dean could feel her power weakening him with every step – he’d already dropped the blade. That meant it was over, right? This had been his chance and he could see it slipping further and further away as his only hope lay useless against the floor. The blade which had cost him so much and would achieve him nothing in the end? Abaddon would win, she had control of the outcome now.

Control.

That’s what it was. It was all about control.

Another gesture from Abaddon’s hand and Dean’s head jerked back against the framed picture behind him, the pain ricocheting through his skull. He had to focus.

Dean felt the moment the blade recognised his will to fight. He honed in on the sensation, anticipation clawing at him as he watched the blade move inch by inch towards him.

The moment it flew to his hand it was done.

He hadn’t been consciously aware of Sam entering the room. Had only the faintest memory of the blade sinking deep into Abaddon’s chest. Had no clue how he’d ended up with such a vast quantity of blood on his hands. That was just a blur. A scarlet blur.

The would be queen was dead beneath him – and Dean had no idea how he felt about it.

-/-

“No.”

The one resolute word off Dean’s tongue had solidified the car journey into silence from that point forward. Sam hadn’t so much as cleared his throat. He’d turned to stare out the window and had seemed to freeze solid for the next twenty miles.

Dean was aware he’d just confirmed something dark and distraught in his brother’s mind – and yet he still couldn’t take it back. Couldn’t even clarify why, no better than he’d already tried.

Dean felt nothing but relief when he finally pulled the Impala to a stop at Cas’ headquarters (Dean was still marvelling at the fact that Cas _had_ a headquarters – honestly, they’d left him alone for less than three days). He didn’t wait for Sam to move or speak, didn’t glance to see if his brother had intentions of following him. Dean simply crumbled to his instincts on where he wanted to be, hoping to find Cas in the most logical place.

Dean did his best to ignore all the angels he passed on his way. He could feel their glares, the scrutiny each of them pressed against him. A few had the nerve to stand as if poised for a fight, even more made a point of stepping away from him.  
He’d scrubbed at his palms back at the hotel until they’d been raw, he was sure he was clean – apparently the current company could still make out the blood on his hands.

He didn’t slow his pace, swerving in and out of desks, up the few stairs till he was through the door to what was Cas’ ‘office’. He hesitated, almost panicked, when there were two angels talking with Cas, leaning over a highly detailed map.

Cas had them out of the room before Dean even realized he’d been giving orders, the door firmly closed and Dean sunk quite easily into Cas’ arms the moment he reached for him.

They just stood slightly off centre in the middle of the room. Dean’s arms around Cas’ shoulders, Cas’ around his back. Dean curled his face into the space between his arms and Cas’ coat, squeezing his eyes shut and just breathing.

It was awhile, a hand gently stroking up and down Dean’s spine, before Cas broke their consensual silence with merely his name.

Dean thought about all the looks he’d received on his way in, the sincerity in Cas’ tone. He laughed with little humour, “Word sure travels fast with you guys, huh?”

Dean pulled back enough to gauge Cas’ reaction. The angel simply nodded slowly.

Dean leaned in to lightly press his lips against Cas’, Dean was pleased when they still parted easily beneath him, Cas prodding back softly, a deep sigh slipping past.

“You’re okay,” Cas stated once Dean drew back again. It wasn’t a question. Cas seemed reluctant to allow Dean to slip out of his hold, but he let him go, watching closely as the hunter made his way around to collapse in the chair behind the desk Cas hardly used. He was still running his fingers through his short hair when Cas spoke again, “How is Sam?”

It was the second time for Dean to give away something close to a chuckle, “Pissed at me – as usual.”

Cas leaned carefully against the desk beside Dean, hooking his ankles over one another as he balanced. It was so easy now for Dean to simply reach for his hand, twine their fingers together, and he still grinned softly at how quickly Cas always complied. “But he is -?”

“He’s fine Cas,” Dean looked up at the gaze watching him closely, “You’d know if he wasn’t.”

Cas nodded, clutching his fingers just a hint tighter around Dean’s. They lapsed back into silence, Dean taking solace from the peace Cas emitted. Cas’ eyes seemed glazed as if he was listening to something far off.

Dean hadn’t realized Cas had begun tracing his fingers over his shirt where the mark lay beneath until he stopped and Dean instantly missed the sensation. Cas smiled down at him when Dean instinctively searched for the touch.

“Where did you put the blade?”

Dean shrugged at the question, “It’s in the car, I think. Sam took it from me as soon as --. As soon as it was done.” Dean frowned when Cas pushed himself away from the desk, “Where are you going?”

“I want to get out of here,” Cas glanced around the walls, scrutinizing out the window he hadn’t closed the curtains on and meeting the stern faces of at least three of his brethren. “Let’s go for a drive.”

Dean grinned over at him, “Couldn’t agree more buddy, I know they’re on your side, but seriously, they have issues.” Dean waved a hand towards the window where they were still being shrewdly watched.

Cas rolled his eyes before following Dean out the door and back through the crowded spaces of the main room. They pointedly ignored everyone who looked their way.

-/-

Sam had barely lasted sixty seconds inside the building before storming back out again. All the angels seemed hard pressed to even look at him, never mind fill him in on anything. He’d seen them give Dean the same cold glares as his brother had quickly made his way through them, all of them with some kind of indictment behind their eyes.

Maybe they viewed Dean as a threat more so now. Maybe he was? Maybe they both were. Either way, he wasn’t going to stand around allowing them to make their silent accusations or whatever the hell they were doing.

Dean was fine, he was with Cas. And Sam was more than happy to pace relentlessly outside.

He’d made it around to the west side of the large building for the third time, thoughts ticking over, most of them revolving around somehow stashing the blade as far away from Dean as he could manage without losing any vital limbs. He’d just run his hand haphazardly through his hair for what had to be close to the twelfth time when there was suddenly a form too close to his own.

“For heaven’s sake Gabriel,” Sam growled once he heard the familiar cackle, “How many times do I have to tell you not to _do_ that?”

“Heya’ Sammy,” Gabriel said cheerfully, ignoring Sam’s words as he fell into step with a skip beside him. “You shouldn’t be wondering around in the dark all alone. Could be dangerous folks about.”

Sam huffed, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans and continuing to walk as if his pointless path hadn’t been interrupted.

“Although, if the rumours of certain beings are to be believed, there’s one less evil presence among us this very night.”

Sam huffed, breaking his silence in exchange for trying to expel some of his worries onto the arch angel beside him, “I thought Cas had told you to lay low. Which meant, you know, staying _away_ from the rumour makers.”

Sam didn’t need to glance across to know Gabriel was exaggeratedly rolling his eyes to the sky, “I’m not an idiot. I don’t walk up to people and go ‘hey what’s happing in the supernatural world because I need to know because I’m a long lost angel trying to keep my side in front’.”

“You know that sounds exactly like what you’d do.”

“Shut up Sasquatch.” Sam ignored him. “Now tell me, is the queen dead?”

“She wasn’t a queen Gabriel. Just because you call yourself queen doesn’t mean you are one.”

“Well, not with that attitude.”

Sam stopped walking abruptly, folding his arms across his chest as Gabriel turned to look at him questioningly, “What do you want Gabriel? If you’re here to taunt and tease, I’m not in the mood.”

Gabriel mimicked Sam’s stance, his face turning hard, “If it did manage to escape your notice Sam, I am trying to help you people. Which would be all that much easier if any one of you bothered to keep my in the loop. Any of them. I’m not asking for access all areas, but do you know what I’m getting so far? Nothing. Zilch. An occasional sideline from Castiel telling me not to do anything obvious. It’s hard to do something obvious when I’m not doing anything at all.”

“Not my problem that Cas doesn’t think your useful.”

“Cassie thinks I’m plenty useful. He just doesn’t believe in my ability to keep my mouth shut.”

“I wonder where on earth he got that idea.” Sam turned to continue walking, trying to restrain his disappointment when he was once again followed.

“You’re being meaner than usual,” Gabriel continued conversationally, “Did you and Dean have a squabble?”

Gabriel allowed Sam to stew in his own silence after that. The two of them now keeping pace with each other with an apparent ease. Although the silence allowed Sam’s mind to wander back to thoughts he didn’t want to touch any longer. He’d become some strange mix of worry, fear and anticipation that it was starting to hurt. They managed another lap of the building, Sam growing more and more impressed at the amount of time Gabriel could stay silent with every step they took.

He was resigned to know it wouldn’t last forever.

“Your brother isn’t disappearing Sam.”                      

Sam blanched at the statement, almost stumbled in his footing and glanced sharply across to find Gabriel watching him closely. “And you’re the expert on _this_ now?”

Gabriel ignored the snarky comment and pressed on, “From what I know, keeping in mind that I knew my brother very well, and am well aware of the type of constructs he came up with when running his little rampage down in Hell -”

“Meaning you think you have _any_ idea what Lucifer put people through?”

“ _Meaning_ – yes actually.” Gabriel waited, shooting Sam a look to ensure the Winchester wouldn’t interrupt again. “This type of thing, it’s not inherently ‘evil’. It’s whatever is made of it.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is darkness behind the mark that now brands your brother, yes. But then again, there is also darkness within the host, within grace. It is how it is put to use that is important.”

“It’s different.”

“How?” Gabriel asked calmly, “Explain to me how?”

Sam shook his head, even his shoulders shaking with the intense movement, “I can see him changing Gabriel. I can see the clouded contours of his eyes and I can hear it in the way he speaks. You can’t trick me with this.”

“Of course he’s changing, he’s been given a lot of power. Power that he doesn’t know how to control. And most certainly it is his choice which way he takes it. Your brother isn’t fading Sam, he’s getting stronger. And you and Cas both, will not allow it to drag him down.”

-/-

Dean had grown quite comfortable in the passenger seat of his baby. Watching as old buildings turned to rows upon rows of houses, watched as they faded to less houses, then there was nothing but fields of empty grass flashing past. He wasn’t sure if it was stranger watching Cas drive or the fact that he had found it so easy to pass Cas the keys and let him take the wheel.

Dean hadn’t realized he’d begun to stare, had probably been doing it for quite some time, when Cas glanced across to him an eyebrow pointedly raised in question. Dean shrugged, mumbling something that was close to, “Eyes on the road Cas.”

Cas’ small laugh ensured that Dean didn’t bother to avert his eyes.

Dean didn’t query when Cas turned off the main road, the tyres switching smoothly against the gravel. They drove for another mile or two, when Cas began to slow down pulling to the side of the very narrow lane seemingly in the middle of nowhere Dean let out a questioning sound.

“What are we doin’ Cas?” Dean asked slyly as Cas killed the ignition, “Did you bring me out here to have your wicked way with me?”

Cas didn’t say anything as he hoisted himself out of the car, and Dean frowned after him in confusion. He fumbled for the doorhandle quickly, pulling himself up and following Cas around to the trunk. Cas passed Dean over the keys motioning for him to open it.

Dean waited patiently as Cas rummaged in the contents as if he did it every day, waiting for him to re-emerge. He drew his coat around him a tad tighter as a breeze ruffled past them, “Come one Cas, it’s kinda cold out here.” Dean’s insistence was due more to his curiosity than his feel for the weather.

Cas dropped the open lid back down with a heavy clunk, a long piece of cloth clasped in his hand. Dean spluttered instantly, taking a few hurried paces backwards. “Whoa, whoa, whoa! What the hell Cas?” Dean’s eyes still trained firmly on the artefact that Cas was carelessly unwrapping, Dean cringed at the fact that he was relatively sure he could _feel_ it. “I was much more keen for the random stint in a desolate paddock when I thought we were going to make out in the car or something.”

“Stop freaking out, Dean.”

“Freaking out? Who said playing with the dangerous ancient weapon was a good idea, huh? Nobody, that’s who. Especially out here where -”

Cas tossed the first blade across to Dean and Dean had his hand out ready to catch it without hesitation. He glared across at Cas darkly, feeling the thrum of energy coursing through him the moment his fingers curled around the hilt of the old relic.

Cas kept his face stoic, taking a few steps away from the car, turning his back to Dean seamlessly, “We’re practising.”

Dean followed him without thinking, ducking around the front of the Impala, the hint of anger that had spiked within him fading quickly to worry then dispersing into his explicit trust in Cas.

When Cas had reached nearly fifty yards from the car he turned back around watching Dean continue to draw closer, the blade clutched loosely in his palm hanging by his side. Dean stopped the moment Cas held his palm up in indication.

“I want you to attack me.”

“Sorry, you want me to what now?” Dean tried to match Cas’ still calm tone and failed terribly, his instinctual trust in Cas’ decision making disappearing at a rapid rate.

“I want you to try and attack me.” Dean caught the glint of silver shine as Cas dropped his angel blade into his hand.

“Have you lost your mind? Do you know what happens when I use this thing? Do you understand? There’s no ‘try’ involved, Cas.” Dean could feel a tremor beginning to run through his body, his palm had quickly grown clammy around the hilt of the blade, he could feel the course of energy continuing to pump through him, trying to turn itself into more – trying to get him to make a move.

“You – we – need to learn how to control this. Need to learn limitations, boundaries, everything. This way we can ensure no one gets hurt.”

“Last time I checked Cas, you counted as a pretty important _someone_ currently standing in the firing line.”

Dean barely heard Cas’ exasperated sigh before the angel was much closer than he had been, there was a flurry of tan coat, a flash of silver and Dean had his arms raised in defence, blade striking out to meet Cas’ in a sickening crunch. Dean’s eyes were frozen wide as Cas held his gaze, pushing against the bone beneath his blade, testing to see if either would buckle to the other. They both held strong and Dean barely had a moment to realize Cas was going to take another swing before he was already moving to prevent being hit.

Cas aimed at him precisely four more times, Dean blocking every one, before the mark on his arm burned hot, bright enough to show through his jacket, and he instinctively swung back.

The two of them fell into a synced rhythm, each attacking the other only to be blocked easily and have to take the defence. Dean watched as Cas calculated his every move, met him easily, pushed back.

Dean could still feel the power of the mark and the blade and everything that came with it, felt the similarities between the sensation now and however many hours ago when he’d been confronted with Abaddon. Dean stumbled when he realized what he was feeling, what he was seeing. He swung towards Cas again, easily meeting Cas’ defence as a comprehension clicked into place.

Cas immediately paused, “Dean?” Cas took a cautious step away, blade drawn defensively at his side, “Why are you smiling? You are supposed to be focusing on the blade.” Dean’s grin grew a little wider when he met Cas’ gaze. “Stop that,” Cas said stubbornly.

Dean shook his head, holding up his hands in defence. “This isn’t going to work Cas.” Cas opened his mouth as if to protest, but Dean didn’t let him. “I tried to explain it to Sam, but I just couldn’t phrase it right.” Dean looked down at the mark still burning bright on his arm, glanced further to his slack grip, then turned his eyes back up to Cas. “When I have the blade, the world doesn’t fade behind some cloud of rage that I have to overcome – nothing distorts. It’s calm. A calmness that just makes everything clear.”

Dean took the few steps needed to close the distance between him and Cas, “It’s my calm. It comes from my perception. It’s why I can pinpoint Sammy’s voice through it. Me and you pretending to fight, it won’t help anything.”

“I don’t understand Dean.”

“I won’t hurt you, I literally can’t. I still see you, even with the blade.” Dean paused trying to describe the sensation without sounding insane. “You are mine, no matter what. And I can _never_ hurt you.”

Dean watched as Cas’ eyes widened around the edges, the surprise behind his gaze quickly folding to one of wonder. He dropped his look almost as if he was embarrassed, glancing back up at Dean from under his lashes, if Dean didn’t know any better he’d say the angel was trying to play coy.

Dean shook his head fondly as he reached for Cas’ hand, dragging him in effortlessly against his side, shifting his occupied hand carefully around Cas’ back to try and pull him closer. Cas leaned up the tiny amount he needed to catch Dean’s mouth, Cas’ angel blade thankfully gone by the time he reached for Dean’s hair to hold him in place.

Cas hummed, pleased as tongues explored easily, twisting around each other before drawing back, Dean playfully nipping at Cas’ lips until he’d let him back in. Dean tugged Cas impossibly tighter, trying to get more out of him, putting more heat behind his actions, drawing more pleasure from the small sounds Cas continued to make in the back of his throat.

Cas broke away with a gasp he didn’t necessarily need, “Dean, we’re in the middle of nowhere.”

Dean smirked teasingly, “We have a car,” he stated confidently before leaning back down to reclaim Cas’ spit slick mouth.

Cas fell back into the smooth motions before pushing himself away again, more force behind his eyes this time, “We are not having sex in your car.”

Dean almost laughed, before he grasped that Cas was serious, “Cas, once -”

“Three times.”

“- In my room, _one_ afternoon, that’s not enough to cause certain desires to abate enough to worry about proper location.”

“Dean,” Cas began sternly, “You are not an overly hormonal teenager who has just been introduced to the concept of sex. You can wait.”

“Cas,” Dean tried patiently, “We literally have years to catch up on. For all intents and purposes, when it comes to all things ‘you’, I _am_ a hormonal mess who needs to explore you in every sense with that concept.”

“We’re not having sex in the backseat of the car.”

Dean let his mouth fall open in a mock sense of horror, “I can’t believe you’re withholding sex.”

In all serious Cas responded, “I can’t believe you can’t physically hurt me.”

Dean leaned around, harshly pinching Cas high on his thigh. Cas tossed him a glare at the no doubt twinge it caused and Dean laughed, “I can’t _seriously_ hurt you. With the blade. I think it makes sense.”

Cas pulled a disbelieving face.

“Like you said,” Dean pressed, slinging his arm around Cas’ shoulder and turning them to head back towards the car, “It’s all about control. You’re my control.” Dean hid his smile at how easily Cas linked his arm across his back, resting his fingers lightly on Dean’s hip as his brow furrowed and he continued to think it through.

“And Sam,” Cas said thoughtfully as they reached the Impala, “He’s your control too.”

Dean shrugged, “I think it’s different. You and him, I think it plays differently. Let’s not have a practise attack session to find out.”

Cas nodded before unclenching himself from Dean’s side, fishing for the keys from Dean’s pocket as he went. “I was going to mention,” Cas started, pausing as he climbed into the car and waited patiently for Dean to do the same on the other side.

Dean tossed the blade almost carelessly over onto the back seat as he got in, frowning, only slightly concerned, when he noticed Cas chewing nervously on his bottom lip as he let the keys merely rest in the ignition, “Gonna mention what, Cas?”

Dean remained facing Cas as the angel turned to watch him, hands clasped neatly in his lap and a furrow along his brow. Blue eyes calculating as if measuring the likeliness of raising Dean’s temper.

“I sought out Gadreel.”

Dean wasn’t sure if he was less comfortable with Cas’ nervous face or this new form of features that expressed he clearly thought he was doing the right thing that had quickly overtaken his original hesitancy. It was the sudden change that gave Dean pause before an outright outburst. “And you thought that was something you should casually mention after the fact?”

“You and Sam were preoccupied, I didn’t want to make it a big deal.”

“Cas -”

“Here me out.”

“He’s a traitorous liar working for Metatron! He lied to gain my trust and tried to steal Sam. Over and over again he tricked us, me. He caused so much damage. He _killed_ Kevin!”

Cas raised his hands in front of him, palms up defensively. It was the motion that had Dean realizing he’d raised his voice so loud, a hand gripped tightly over the back of his seat, eyes burning fury as he’d been leaning closer to Cas.

Dean took a shuddering breath, unclenching his vice like grip against the upholstery and shifting back into his own space. Cas waited for his breathing to return to normal, and his glare to lesson, before trying again slowly. “I don’t believe he was always working for Metatron.” Cas paused as Dean shot him a dark look, but continued when Dean kept his mouth firmly shut, “It was only after situations started to turn sour that Metatron found him, spoke to him, tried to convince him that he had a good and holy plan. Swayed him against us.”

“You can’t believe -”

“You should have seen Gadreel’s shock when Metatron sent men to attack me.” Cas shushed Dean quickly as the hunter began a protest at the attack he’d also known nothing about. “He is honourable, it was his honour that got him into trouble all those centuries ago. Metatron twisted every situation to tell Gadreel what he wanted to hear. I know Metatron’s lies, how he manipulates – I was on the receiving end of them, _I_ fell for every single one of them the exact same way.”

“There is nothing similar about you,” Dean bit out harshly.

“Willing to risk everything to save a Winchester. Trying to save the remains of a broken family. Trying to help that family be whole once more and return to a home we have all long missed. Being too naïve to recognise the potent lies we’re told, in some twisted hope that we can achieve what we truly desire. I’d have to disagree Dean, I think we have many similarities.”

“He _killed -_ ”

“On Metatron’s orders,” Cas pressed harshly, “On someone’s orders who had promised him the redemption he’s been searching for, for longer than you can possibly encompass.”

Dean huffed, arms folded across his chest petulantly as his current argument began to fail, “So what did you say to him?”

“I told him the truth.”

“And he what, fell on bended knee and pledged his loyalty to you?” Dean snorted, “Yeah, that’s trustworthy behaviour.”

Dean could see Cas was trying to keep his features schooled calmly and had to hold back a grin knowing Cas wouldn’t give up until he had him at least somewhat convinced – he didn’t want to do anything without Dean’s support and Dean kind of felt satisfied at that. “He did nothing of the sort. I don’t think he’d ever fight with us. I don’t necessarily want him to. I need information, information that he could get – already has.” Cas finally looked away from Dean’s form, turning his gaze out the slightly fogged windows. “And I think he’ll do it.”

“Why?”

“He’s looking for redemption for a crime that wasn’t his doing. He’s entire existence has been one of torture because he was fooled once. He’ll realize Metatron does not truly offer what he seeks.” Cas looked back across at Dean when he remained silent, arms still across his chest, “Trust me Dean.”

Dean rolled his eyes as he sighed dramatically, “Always.”

Cas grinned and Dean shook his head exasperatedly at the genuinely pleased look. Dean willingly moved his arms out of the way when Cas leaned over to press a quick kiss to his mouth. Dean smirked benignly clutching at Cas quickly and prying Cas’ mouth open with his tongue, fisting his fingers into the sides of Cas’ shirt and dragging his whole body closer.

Cas seemed conflicted as to whether to pull away or allow Dean to manhandle him, ending up in some kind of awkward hovered position with Dean’s fingers firmly tugging at his sides. “Dean,” Cas breathed in the minimal space Dean was allowing between their mouths. “Not in the car.”

“I hate that rule,” Dean practically whined, “I actually don’t understand why we spontaneously _have_ that rule.”

Cas laughed softly, his lips trailing gently up Dean’s jaw as Dean refused to relinquish the firm grasp he’d claimed in his dark hair. “Need boundaries,” Cas murmured between kisses, “There needs to be lines,” Cas pushed the top of Dean’s jacket and shirt aside so he could track his lips further. “Would you prefer that I just took you wherever – cease caring about whatever witnesses are around – simply take you whenever I see fit.”

“ _Cas,_ ” Dean tugged at his grip to bring Cas back up to his seeking lips, pushing heat into his willing mouth. “Damn, yes.”

Cas smirked, cupping a hand to Dean’s jaw as he dragged Dean’s face into a better position, “Be careful, Dean. You could regret the things you say.”

“Not a chance.” Dean barely had the statement out before he had a lapful of willing angel. Cas was astride him properly, hands running around his face and up through his hair with a newly developed urgency.

Dean’s jaw dropped lower as Cas eagerly ran his tongue deeper and he groaned low in his throat. Cas’ hands had found their way under his layers of shirts and were running solidly up his bare chest, Dean couldn’t help but arch into the sensation.

Dean shifted his hands to the collar of Cas’ coat, all intentions to push it from his shoulders and was worried he was about to be forced to beg as Cas started to pull himself away again. Dean didn’t even have the chance to express his dissatisfaction at the sudden loss of contact before there were two deftly moving hands against the buckle of his belt, unlooping the leather and opening it to either side.

Dean caught sight of Cas’ sly grin only briefly before he couldn’t see his face at all, the angel shifting down towards where his hands were still working. Dean only had seconds to realize Cas’ intention before it was already becoming an actual reality. His hips raised for a second long enough for boxers to be shoved out of the way, then there was the swipe of Cas’ hand quickly up and down his hard length only once before the sensation was overrun by Cas’ lips spreading wide and sinking down over his cock, “Holy shit, _Cas!_ ”

Cas hummed in reply and Dean lost the capability to form words. One hand fisted back into Cas’ unruly hair, the other clutching at nothing against the glass of the side window as Cas moved as if he’d done this dozens of times.

His hand was curled around the base of Dean’s cock, rubbing the area he hadn’t quite reached as he lapped sufficiently over the leaking head before sinking down further and hollowing his cheeks. Dean was running some kind of litany of Cas’ name as his hips attempted to buck further up into the enveloping heat surrounding him. Cas didn’t seem concerned with the minimal space they had, his legs tucked under him in some way that shouldn’t possibly be comfortable but Dean’s mind was too far gone to even consider that ramification.

The only warning he managed to give Cas was an extra hard tug at his hair, Cas’ hand long out of the way as he’d been quite capable of sinking to the hilt and nudging Dean’s cock down his throat, and Dean came with an extended moan, hips raised from the leather beneath him, Cas managing to not lose a drop of come as he adequately remained around Dean until he was completely spent.

Dean was still in the clouds when he began reaching for Cas again, trying to find the fastening of his pants knowing that Cas was as hard as he’d been a moment ago. Cas removed Dean’s hands from him easily and left them loosely by Dean’s sides, leaning in to press his exceedingly plumped lips against Dean’s and passing over the extra flavour he’d collected. “Later,” He murmured clearly.

Cas looked exceedingly smug as he righted himself into the driver’s seat, flattening a few of the creases he’d indented into his clothes. Dean still felt dazed, “Man, I hate you,” he murmured, watching as Cas’ expression grew somehow haughtier. Cas glanced over as he finally turned the ignition, the Impala roaring to life around them, and he found nothing more than fondness gazing back at him.

-/-

Sam figured since the bunker was actually his and Dean’s place he shouldn’t feel so jumpy inside the walls. But Gabriel’s presence managed to cause that effect on him. It was just always a possibility that the angel would somehow manage to set up some kind of devious prank. Even when he was sitting seemingly innocently at the table in the main room, books open around him – it wasn’t a vision that should be trusted.

“Were you up reading all night?” Sam asked cautiously, plopping down across from Gabriel in much the same position he’d left him in late the night before. They’d headed for the bunker when they both had finally decided a room full of angry angels wasn’t the prime location for rest achieving.

Gabriel merely glanced pointedly at Sam’s cup of coffee as if asking where his was. Sam rolled his eyes, grudgingly trudging back down to the kitchen to fill another cup, keeping it for himself when it became apparent Gabriel had already commandeered the first one.

Sam picked up one of the books Gabe had open, glancing at the miniscule enochian before raising his gaze questioningly.

“Just tryin’ to do some research on some stuff.” Sam huffed at the lack of explanation and Gabriel added, “Something I know Cassie isn’t giving as much attention to as he should be.”

Sam frowned, more than willing to keep prodding the subject but was prevented from doing so as the entrance door creaked open loudly and his brother and Cas both plodded down the stairs, conversation flowing softly between them.

“Morning kiddies!” Gabriel exclaimed loudly when they were both closer. “Thought you might have been forced to stay at HQ Cassie.”

“They know how to contact me if anything comes up.”

“Yeah, our own personal rock star,” Dean laughed, clapping Cas on the shoulder as he passed to pull out another chair.

Sam frowned as he watched Gabriel try to inconspicuously pull a couple of books over the top of the ones he’d been incessantly perusing. Cas seemed to notice too, pointedly picking one of them up and squinting down at the words.

“Gabriel,” Cas was suddenly growling, a flash of anger behind his eyes.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look of curiosity as Gabriel had the courtesy to look sheepish. “Just tryin’ to help baby bro.”

“Stay out of it,” Cas rumbled, flipping the book pointedly closed and placing it out of Gabriel’s physical reach.

Dean shrugged across to his brother, clearly having no further clue what the exchange was about before pushing himself back to his feet, “I’m gonna take a shower. Long day and all yesterday.”

“I’m sure it was Dean-o,” Gabriel stated with his usual enthusiasm, an exaggerated wink added to the end of the statement for effect.

Dean ignored him.

Sam only remained seated a moment longer, quickly realizing Cas wasn’t about to stop glaring at Gabriel any time soon, Sam cleared his throat pointedly, “I’m, just gonna go, be somewhere that isn’t here.”

Neither angel stopped him from following his brother out of the room.

Gabriel returned Cas’ harsh stare the moment they were alone, “Judging by the obvious fact that there is less worry behind _precious_ Dean’s gaze than there has been the last week or so, I think it’s safe to assume that you haven’t told him.”

Cas folded his arms over his torso protectively, “There hasn’t been -”

“A good time?” Gabriel scowled, “How about breaking apart for two minutes last night from what I’m presuming were not pure acts to explain the fact that you are not okay.”

“I’m fine,” Cas growled through gritted teeth.

Gabe threw his hands up, “Oh yes, perfectly fine, absolutely! I’m sure Dean will agree when you suddenly self-combust from the grace currently burning you from the inside out.”

Cas dropped his head, eyes slipping closed, “There’s nothing that can be done. Dean doesn’t -”

“If you don’t think he needs to know you are seriously delusional.” Gabriel was on his feet, movements harried as he slipped closer to Cas’ side, “And of course there are things to be done. Give me time – and maybe if you actually put some effort into it – we’ll find the way. Not to bring up bad memories or nothing, but you have had grace extracted from you before.”

“It’s not the same,” Cas said solemnly.

“You’re right,” Gabriel agreed, “This time it’s completely consensual.”

Cas didn’t protest as Gabriel tugged him into a gruff hug, voice lowered when closer to his ear, “You need to talk to him. No offensive, but I don’t fancy a pissed off, powered up, Dean Winchester who could probably _actually_ manage to kill me in his new state.”

“I don’t want him to worry.”

Gabriel snorted over Cas’ shoulder, “He’s a Winchester – they’re always worried.”

Castiel waited patiently perched on the end of Dean’s bed while Dean finished in the bathroom. He smiled back when Dean grinned at the sight of him and easily returned Dean’s kiss when he sought one.

Dean seated himself next to him as he finished rubbing a damp towel over his hair, “What’s Gabriel causing trouble about now?”

Even with Dean’s voice holding a joking lilt Cas couldn’t quite keep his smile from faltering under Dean’s gaze. Cas drew in a deep breath, “Dean, we need to talk.”

Dean chuckled, placing his hand on Cas’ knee and squeezing, “Remind me to teach you how to phrase things in a way that don’t make me freak out.” Dean shook his head at Cas’ questioning look, “Tell me what you want to tell me.”

Cas picked up Dean’s hand resting on his thigh, twisting their fingers together tightly. “Gabriel is searching the books the men of letters managed to collect about angels, a couple of them are highly rare, they contain information that Gabriel doesn’t even recall correctly. He’s looking for something to help fix me.”

“What do you mean _fix_ you? There’s nothing wrong -”

“The grace I stole,” Cas proceeded, Dean’s grip tightening harshly around his fingers, “It’s having inadvertent affects.”

“What the hell are you talking about Cas?”

Cas resigned himself, “It’s burning me up. Slowly. But it is happening. Soon my vessel – _I_ –won’t be able to contain it. For lack of a better description – it’s slowly killing me.”

Dean’s hand was out of Cas’ grip before Cas could clutch at him, he was on his feet and across the other side of the room facing the wall, shoulders drawn up and a hand running through his hair. Cas didn’t know what to say, opened his mouth once, twice, no words flowing. And he watched helplessly as Dean’s shoulders began to shake.

When Dean turned back around Cas was struck with an utter sense of helplessness as he watched the tracks of water clearly mark Dean’s face as they ran down his cheeks. “How _dare_ you not tell me about this. How _dare_ you!”

Cas wanted to shrink away and jump across to Dean all at the same time.

“What gives you the right to keep this from me? How – what – is this why you were so god damned blaźe about trying to _train_ me, because you thought ‘oh, I’m dead anyway what does it fucking matter’!”

“No, Dean -”

“How could you think this was ok Cas? For what miniscule moment did you think this was _ok?”_

Cas was on his feet, in Dean’s space, fear and anguish spiking through him as Dean’s eyes were still wet.

“What the _fuck_ Cas! I can’t – what – no -” Dean hunched over, hands open on his knees as he tried to breath properly, air coming in gasps as he tried to calm down, focus.

He fell into Cas’ touch as Cas grabbed at his shoulders, locked his arms around Cas’ back as he drew him up, buried his face into his shoulder.

“It’s ok Dean.”

“No it’s not fucking ok.” Dean’s words were muffled by Cas’ coat, “You’re not allowed to leave me. Not now – not after everything. We just finally got our shit together, I just got my shit together. You’re not allowed – ever – you’re _mine_. I need you Cas.”

“You’ve got me. You’ve always got me. It’s ok, we’ll figure it out.”

“Damn fucking straight we’ll figure it out.”

Cas smiled into the side of Dean’s face at that, he could still hear the clog in Dean’s throat, but at the same time he could feel him relaxing in his arms, feel his determination set that this was nowhere near inevitable.

Cas tilted Dean’s head upright so he could brush away the tracks from his cheeks, he pressed his lips softly against one side of his face, then to the corner of his mouth. Dean curled his fingers around the side of Cas’ neck, holding him still as their foreheads rested together.

“I’m tired Cas,” Dean eventually breathed against him. Cas nodded his head without jostling either of them. “I mean, this kind of feels like the moment when I should throw you down on the bed and let you fuck me. Put that whole claiming business to rest, but I don’t think I have the energy.”

Cas let Dean feel his grin against his lips, “There’s always tomorrow Dean.”

“Is there though?”

“Yes.”

Cas tugged Dean over to the bed without room for objection, both of them dispensing with their jackets along the short journey. Cas pulled the top blanket back before collapsing down against the mattress, happily dragging Dean to fall on top of him.

They curled around each other seamlessly, limbs slotting into place, fingers intertwined, Cas’ palm resting possessively against Dean’s hip. The blanket tossed across them to hide their entangled position from the world no doubt watching them and passing its judgement.

Cas could hear Dean’s heartbeat beating steadily, and it was all he needed.

Metatron was still the ever looming threat, his hoard of faithful angels behind him. But maybe they could somehow manage to get a step ahead. Gadreel _could_ prove to be the unexpected glitch in Metatron’s so called master plan.

They’d figure out how to ensure Cas would be okay. Angel, Human, it didn’t matter to either of them – as long as Cas was okay.

Dean buried his lips in Cas’ hair, tension draining out of his body as Cas relaxed, contented, curled against him. Right where he was supposed to be.

“We’ll figure it out – all of it – we always do.”


End file.
